


Flesh and Bone

by Utu



Series: Sweetheart, What Have You Done to Us? [1]
Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: Angst, Flash Fic, Grief/Mourning, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-28
Updated: 2021-01-28
Packaged: 2021-03-14 08:33:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29043171
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Utu/pseuds/Utu
Summary: They’re wrong. They have to be. Joseph is wrong. Because Jacob cannot be gone. He’s still here, under Staci’s eyes, so how can he be dead? The seal has not been opened, this Staci knows. Or thinks he knows.
Relationships: Staci Pratt/Jacob Seed
Series: Sweetheart, What Have You Done to Us? [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2130900
Comments: 9
Kudos: 18





	Flesh and Bone

**Author's Note:**

> I love Staci/Jacob, I love 'em both so damn much. And I just wanted to write something really angsty.

Blood glints crimson in the moonlight, slick and wet and heavy. Staci drags his fingers through Jacob’s hair, across his clammy cheek, tilting his head to meet his eyes. There’s a certain kind of stillness in Jacob’s limbs, a heavy milkiness in his hollowed eyes. His lungs that once shared the hot, damp bedroom air with Staci are now silent.

A noise, half whine and half sob escapes Staci as he leans his forehead against Jacob’s, running a hand through his hair which flows between his fingers like a river. His skin is cold like stone, his face expressionless. Dew clings to Jacob's eyelashes, his beard, coating everything with water that shines like dead bone under the swollen moon.

“Jacob,” Staci mutters under his breath, looking at his captor, his  _ savior, _ and pleads. “Say something. Look at me.” It’s a familiar demand for the both of them. But this time, Jacob doesn’t look at Staci. He doesn’t respond. He does nothing. He lies on the hard ground, drying blood streaking his face.

They’re wrong. They have to be. Joseph is wrong. Because Jacob cannot be gone. He’s still here, under Staci’s eyes, so how can he be dead? The seal has  _ not _ been opened, this Staci knows. Or thinks he knows.

Relentlessly, Staci fights with reality, pushing it aside, as he shuffles closer. He trails his fingers across Jacob's nonexistent pulse, lingering. The cold ground has sucked all warmth from his flesh and bones. Unresponsive, he stares skyward while Staci works his fingers underneath his fatigues, counting his ribs. Digging his fingers into the cold, unmoving chest, Staci bows his head. He struggles to breathe, to understand why he's being ignored like this. He lies down, draping an arm over Jacob's chest, snuggling close to the man he just a week earlier shared a bed with.

Moon swims in the void as the clouds drift aside, southbound, coating everything with milk. Staci closes his eyes as they lie against each other, loosely threaded together. His ribs beat open and closed like wings, but someone managed to cut off Jacob's wings, and his ribs are dangerously still.

A prickle travels up Staci's spine. He rises, his body heat bleeding into the earth below. Craving for what once was, he cranes his neck to press a kiss against Jacob's lips. A souvenir from before. He's terrified, unable to think, unable to believe, as he licks his way into Jacob’s mouth, desperate for the feverish heat he once feared and now loves.

"C'mon. Look at me, Jacob." Staci's voice wavers. He blows his warm breath into Jacob's mouth, willing him to wake up. Nails scraping the fatigues, Staci shudders, as he gets no response. He slams his fist into Jacob's chest, and a puff of cold air escapes his lungs, brushing against Staci's lips. Pathetic, sure, but he still chomps the air, trying to catch the last breath escaping the dead lungs.

No, not dead. Can't be. Jacob's not dead. Right?

Staci begs. Pleads. "Please. I'll be good. I'll be strong. Don't leave me. You can't just leave me alone here. What am I supposed to do?" He waits for an order. “I’m not weak,” he says, voice full of fervor. “Not weak. I’m not weak. I’m strong. I have to be strong. Jacob. Jacob, I’m not weak. Don’t ignore me like this. You made me strong. You’re strong. We’re not weak.”

It doesn’t even occur for Staci to pray for God to help him. He rests his heavy head on Jacob’s chest, inhaling the smell of iron and salt, smoke and gun oil, nuzzling his nose into the fatigues until it’s sore.

Lying on the ground next to his captor, Staci watches the world end. He’s blinded by the initial flash, one hand threaded amidst Jacob’s beard, one hand holding his cold hand in his. Mountains are engulfed in flames, debris falls down, hammering the ground like a God’s fist smiting down from the heavens. The world as he knows it—they know it—collapses.

And Staci waits for the gates of Eden to open, only to find Jacob standing guard, waiting. He smiles, extends a hand, laces his rough fingers with Staci’s, pulling him closer. A stray, blue butterfly lands on his arm, fluttering its translucent wings.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Drop a kudos and/or a comment if you have the time. <3


End file.
